Trestan looked to the gnome, “Mel, what do you know about our other enemies? Are any of them dead or still running around?”
Mel looked up and replied, “We took care of that Tariykan. Loung Chao? I think that was his name. Cat and I helped him lose his head! How did you fare?”
Mel patted Cat’s legs as he spoke, and she reached out to give his hand a firm squeeze in return. Trestan answered the gnome, “It didn’t look like I would make it, but maybe Abriana looked over my shoulder. I found a way to kill Bortun. How about Savannah?”
Mel shrugged. The gnome peeked over the balcony rail to yell at the two friends searching the room below. “Do either of you know what happened to Savannah?”
“She isn’t a threat for now,” Petrow yelled back. “She’s in a room in the lower level; tied and wrapped up in so much leather that she might get mistaken for a cow!”
That brought a brief smile to Cat’s face. Despite the brief levity, her condition worsened. Cat squirmed a bit, trying to force more air through her injured throat. She seemed so much weaker. Even as Trestan watched, the half-elf lost the strength to keep her arms up. Trestan, alone, held pressure to her wound. She didn’t bleed as much, but the end result seemed to be unchanged. Cat looked up into Trestan’s eyes once more as she rested against him.
“Hurry, please, find something!” Trestan yelled.
Cat tried to lay a comforting hand on Trestan. Tears streamed down her face. It hurt Trestan to see her suffering like this. The woman put forth every effort to breathe and retain her grip on life, but it was inexorably slipping away.
Trestan leaned very close to Cat. The arm draped around her shoulder squeezed her reassuringly, while he delivered a gentle kiss to her soft cheek. With their heads together, Trestan whispered into her ear. “Hang on as long as you can. Don’t leave us yet. I…I love you too much to let you go like this.”
Despite Trestan knowing Cat for only a short time, he spoke from the heart. The adventures they shared on this trip had put her in the forefront of his mind many times. The memories of her morning stretch routine, as well as the outline of her body silhouetted in the moonlight back at Barkan’s Crossing, were etched into his mind. Her smiles warmed his days. Now the woman he admired and loved struggled for life in his arms. Despair struck. What could he do? Trestan had put his faith in the Goddess of Love and Healing, yet was this the cruel price? How could they have achieved so much, only to be helpless as lovely Cat died of her wounds?
A memory rose unbidden into his mind, from the night of the battle in Troutbrook, and it centered on Savannah.
The most obvious need for her talents was the elf wizard bleeding to death near her. She held up her holy symbol and mouthed a few words of prayer to her goddess. Kneeling by Revwar, she grabbed the bolt and pulled it out with a quick jerk. The elf writhed and screamed, but her prayers continued. Unseen beneath his robes, the wound closed and mended. The effect was plain to see: he took in a deep breath and pulled himself back to his feet. Drying blood still soaked a portion of his robes, but the wound miraculously vanished.
Trestan considered the memory, even as another one surfaced. This was during the same battle, after Jareth had been brought down by the same wizard’s beam.
He caught movement from Sir Wilhelm. The warrior brought one of his hands close to his side and uttered prayers. Trestan couldn’t hear what was said. The warrior spoke softly, his eyes closed in reverence…
Jareth somehow healed some of his wounds. His prayers to his goddess actually drew a healing miracle like those of which Savannah had cast. The warrior staggered to his feet.
The goddess Abriana could give the power to heal, as many gods could, but why couldn’t she save Cat? Trestan believed Abriana guided him up to this point in their adventure, yet this ending questioned his faith. How could this helpful, healing goddess that he prayed to turn her back on him. Trestan wished that he could call on those healing powers to save the woman who guided them through so many dangerous moments. The young smith looked down. Cat did not move at all, she simply lay still while gasping for air. Her face turned pale, and blue tinted her lips.
As Trestan held Cat close, they could hear the frustrated sadness in Petrow’s voice as he shouted up to the balcony. “There is nothing down here! I can’t find any healing draughts! I’m sorry Cat! I’m so sorry, I tried my best!”
While Petrow gave in to tears and apologies, Salgor’s search became decidedly more violent. The dwarf’s axe began searching by means of destroying tables and containers. The warrior of Daerkfyre roared his rage as he destroyed everything that might hide a potion.
As Trestan held Cat’s dying body close, a revelation struck him. All the faith in the world could not help channel the healing miracles of the gods unless bolstered by commitment as well. A person had to be an extension of that god’s will, bridging the gap between the heavens and the world. This required the ultimate dedication to that god’s cause and beliefs. This must be why paladins were the ‘champions’ of their gods, riding into battle with emboldened purpose.
Those words from his father came back to haunt him: “I wonder if you may have been influenced more than I suspected by Sir Wilhelm, and that you look at the possibilities of becoming a paladin.”
These same thoughts he had silently debated the previous evening. A step he feared to take. The young man would be forever stepping away from his old life. He had frequently asked Abriana for guidance and help, but just the previous night he admitted that he could not promise anything. How could a person give up everything they wanted and aspired, pledging everything to serve something so far above them? How could one give up their life that way?
Another voice spoke inside his head. Trestan’s own reasoning, adopted Sir Wilhelm’s tone. He could hear his mentor as if they debated philosophies near that shrine in the woods. “Serving a goddess like Abriana is not about giving up your aspirations or plans. Instead, you become a champion for all that you already love and hope to achieve. Taking the step alongside Abriana is a special bond only in that you also help others to achieve what they love. Only when your goals and ideals are already attuned to your goddess can you serve both common interests. Through one’s dedication, they can better fulfill their own desires in life. You are not required to give up anything outside the boundaries of your beliefs and character. Instead, you are merely committing yourself to be more outspoken in your ideals and expected to uphold your beliefs. These same ideals and beliefs are already akin to the goddess to whom you already pray.”
A question still concerned him. Through his thoughts, he addressed the voice which had just provided such insight. “The thought still scares me. How brave will I have to be? What sacrifices will I have to endure to follow the path?”
Sir Wilhelm’s phantom responded to his doubts. “You have already faced perils for your own beliefs. Being champion to a goddess is less risky than attacking a minotaur, or of risking a beloved father’s anger. The commitment itself is safer than facing three or four armed men all alone. In the course of adventure, you have already risked all of this, as well as the wrath of wizards and an enemy cleric who championed her own goddess and beliefs. You were willing to jump in the way of a magical spell to spare the lives of your friends, and you would have done the same selfless heroic deed if you had the power a moment ago when Revwar cast his fiery spell. You argued true to your convictions at every turn: refusing to steal horses after the battle in Troutbrook, and voicing your displeasure at stealing Dovewing to continue the pursuit. In the end, you journeyed with your friends to protect them and face every danger beside them. Committing yourself to a goddess is nay more risky,and only signifies the path you have already chosen.”
Trestan considered the reasoning. He possessed the spirit, love, and courage. It did seem a silly thing that he had resisted the call, when in truth it supported his own beliefs. The young man had already faced many physical dangers for the sake of that which he loved.
Trestan looke
d down at the beautiful woman, mortally stricken, awaiting her inevitable death in his arms. She was no longer conscious. Those once-sparkling emerald eyes were closed and hidden away. Cat’s limp body strained for air. Trestan felt a weak and fragile pulse. As the young man gazed through teary eyes, he also made out Mel, cupping one of her hands, but crying against her leg. Petrow still wailed apologies from below as he and Salgor gave in to the realization there were no sources of healing available.
Cat only had one chance, and Trestan wasn’t sure how to go about it, or if it was within his abilities. The young man brought his thoughts back to Savannah and Sir Wilhelm Jareth. Every miracle seemed brought forth from prayers. Trestan knew he would have to pray also, in a way he never had before. All his beliefs and commitment would be brought to the test if he was to leap this barrier. Trestan focused his concentration his bloody hand over Cat’s throat. His mind filled with the images and symbols belonging to Abriana.
“Abriana, please heed the call of your faithful. Heal this person whom I love.”
Trestan felt a change in his hand, mind and body. A rush of energy poured from his soul and flowed to his limbs. It surprised his senses. Even as he called upon it, the energy asked for a release. Trestan tried to focus on Cat and Abriana, trying to will the power onward.
The energy was blocked. Cat still bled over his hand, losing her fight with death. Abriana had heard his prayer and responded, trying to provide the healing miracle for which Trestan had prayed. Somehow the power would not flow into Cat. He tried to figure how the miracle could be begging for release and yet stay trapped within him. It had to be his commitment. For the miracle to work, he had to dedicate himself to his goddess and allow her to work through his human frame.
Trestan threw back his head and declared his devotion. His words rang across the throne room. “Abriana! I declare myself thy champion! I live to serve you in our common beliefs! Take my body as a vessel for your influence in this world. Heed my call and heal my friend.”
Trestan gave himself to the power stored up inside of him. It felt like sharing his form with another presence. Abriana reached through her champion, passing her healing energies across his limbs and into his touch. The smith from Troutbrook became a part of the love and healing. There was no more doubt and worry about losing himself and his dreams, for the power granted to him flowed forth to accomplish his own goals. His will and commitment opened the gate. Trestan had become a paladin of Abriana, the Goddess of Love and Healing.
Mel didn’t expect that Trestan’s shouts would have any effect. He believed Trestan was just as grief struck and helpless as they all were, and that nothing would save Cat. The gnome cradled Cat’s limp hand between his own. When a small light sprang forth from Trestan’s hand, the gnome assumed it was just a trick of the light. Mel wondered if his teary eyes were playing a trick when he saw Cat’s spilled blood start to dry up and blow away in the midst of an unexplainable wind. The sorcerer peered closer as he saw the edges of her wound stitch together into unblemished skin.
Mel nearly jumped when Cat’s hand found its strength and instinctively gripped the sorcerer’s. “Aagh!”
The gnome observed with amazement as Cat’s chest rose with a deep breath of fresh air. Her eyes sprung open, viewing the world once again. She blinked at Mel a few times in bewilderment. Each breath came easily to her now. She could feel the warm healing energies flowing through Trestan’s hand and into her restored throat. Cat looked with wonder at Trestan, seeing something more than the young man she had known before. The power and love of his goddess was in his eyes. His embrace sheltered and comforted her like nothing before. His miraculous touch flooded health and wholeness throughout her body. He brought a measure of peace to her mind as well. It reminded her of the day beside the small waterfall, thinking that Trestan would lean close and kiss her.
Trestan offered as much as he could without any formalized training. The flow of energy trickled and stopped, leaving Trestan even wearier than before. The man’s heart felt oddly replenished and buoyed, but his mind and muscles needed rest. It gave him an appreciation of the physical and mental drain of utilizing magical or spiritual energy.
Trestan and Cat locked eyes once again, keeping their thoughts private. He rested his head against her, and she again leaned closer to his chest. They embraced for companionship and support. It was a tender moment, broken only by the sounds of both regaining their breath.
Salgor called up from below, “What is happening up there?”
Mel could barely contain his excitement. The gnome rushed over to the balcony railing and peeked his eyes and nose over the edge as he responded, “Trestan healed Cat! She looks like she will be well!”
Salgor stood among a pile of broken tables and scattered pieces of glass and pottery. The dwarf threw up his hands and said, “If he was able to do that all along, then what are we doing down here tearing up this room?”
* * * * *
With the immediate threats no longer hanging over their heads, the companions relaxed and talked about their experiences. They shared the tales of the destruction of the minotaur, the beheading of Loung Chao, and the imprisonment of Savannah. Salgor talked about the tricks the wizard pulled from the relic stone, which brought awe and disbelief to Petrow and Trestan. The two young men could not believe that such a weapon had always sat on display in the middle of their village.
Cat and Trestan retrieved their weapons from the balcony. Cat cleaned off her rapier before returning it to its scabbard. Trestan also wiped his blade, though he wasn’t ready to put it away so soon after the action. The gnome was still injured and weary from his fighting.
Mel looked up at Trestan, “I don’t suppose I could borrow a little of that healing magic that you seem to have acquired.”
Trestan felt ashamed that he had not offered to try healing the poor gnome. At the same time, he felt so taxed that he wasn’t sure if he had anything left in him. Nevertheless, Trestan placed his free hand against Mel’s shoulder and prayed for the healing energies once again.
At first nothing happened. Trestan felt the energy but was too weary to let it flow through his body. The young man realized it would take time and training to be more efficient at his new ability. In his state, he could not enact the healing powers of his goddess.
But something unexpected did happen as Trestan struggled to reach that miracle. Some foreign energy channeled through Trestan’s arm into the gnome. Mel started to feel re-invigorated. The bruise around his eye lost its swelling and discoloration, becoming healthy again. To Trestan, the feeling was vastly different then when he had prayed earlier. There was no feeling of Abriana reaching through his body, or of his heart buoyed by love. Instead, pain and suffering wracked Trestan’s body. Cat and Mel watched as the same bruise appeared near Trestan’s eye, before he doubled over from pain.
Trestan wanted stop the flow, but he had to figure out what was different. He looked within and traced the source of the energy. His will to heal another had sent a message into the elvish blade in his hand, and somehow the sword’s magic responded. The Sword of the Spirit borrowed health and energy from Trestan’s body and sent it to Mel. This new flow of power had nothing to do with his faith; this was simply a power of the magical blade previously unknown. With the connection discovered, Trestan severed the willingness to heal. The sword obeyed, shutting off the damage to his body and bringing Mel’s healing process to a stop.
Cat and Mel tried to catch Trestan as the young man tipped over. They both worried over his bruised expression.
“I’m fine, I just need a moment.” Trestan replied, although by that time he was kneeling on the ground.
Mel spoke out in apology, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your healing magic hurt you like that!”
Cat’s concern reflected in her eyes. Trestan read her glance and realized she was wondering what price Trestan had paid for her healing. The young man quickly explained, “That wasn’t my goddess using her healing miracle that
time. When I healed you, I channeled Abriana’s energies. It alleviated me even as it healed you. This time, I was too tired to tap into that source, and another one opened up.” Trestan held forth the elvish blade. “This sword has the power to heal, but at the expense of another’s health. We never knew it before, because I don’t think anyone ever touched the sword when using healing magic. I didn’t have it when I called on my goddess to heal Cat. That’s interesting…we had a source of healing with us all along, as long as someone sacrificed a portion of their own vitality for the wounded person.”
Mel found this to be very curious, and the gnome studied the runes of the blade intently. Cat, watching Trestan, noticed a pall come over his expression. Trestan’s eyes were introspective, seeing something from his past that did not seem to be a pleasant memory.
Cat laid her gentle touch upon his cheek, and turned his head to face him directly. “Trestan, what is it?”
Trestan replied, “I could have saved that one-eyed man back at the bluff. We had nay other healing, but the sword was there.”
Cat hugged Trestan close, and whispered in his ear, “You were hurt as well, and if you had given up any of your health at that time you wouldn’t have lived to see Troutbrook and your father again. Let go of that memory.”
Trestan took comfort in Cat’s embrace and let go any guilt he still felt for that man who had tried to take his life.
Salgor’s voice yelled up from the room below. “Now that we accomplished what we wanted to do, its time to take what we can and secure ourselves some travel off of this island.”
The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path Page 56
